Know thy enemy
by Rose de Sharon
Summary: Godfrey of Ibelin’s POW during the confrontation with Guy de Lusignan at the pilgrims’ camp.


**TITLE: Know thy enemy**

Author: Rose de Sharon

Disclaimer: I own nothing. But I do own Balian… in my dreams! ;-)

Author's notes: I have unashamedly made up a few details, so this story is slightly AU. English is not my native language and this story hasn't been beta-readed, so all mistakes are mine.

Summary: Godfrey of Ibelin's POW during the confrontation with Guy de Lusignan at the pilgrims' camp.

Feedback: Yes please. Flames will be laughed at: you were warned!

Archives: Doc M 

Thank you so much! You're my first reviewer. You wanted some more, there you have it! ;-)

**To: Red Cloud Phoenix**

I love the Kingdom of Heaven story you're writing, too! I hope you will post some new chapters soon.

**To: Kirsten B.**

Thank you for your nice words. I'm always worried about grammar and spelling since English is not my native language.

**To: Redone**

Godfrey's wonderful! It's too bad we get to know him so little in the movie, but like Balian, we all fell in love with him.

**To: Hikara Kokoi**

You're so nice, thank you for taking the time to read my stuff!

**To: Queen Esther**

My thanks, your Highness! ;-)

**To: lateBloomer04**

You guessed right, I have borrowed the name Rose de Sharon from the John Steinbeck book. This flower's Latin name is _Hibiscus Syriacus_ and it was brought in Europe from Syria during the 16th century. It is the national flower of Korea, its native birthplace.

_**(Godfrey's POV)**_

We have finally reached the Holy Land pilgrims' camp in the South coast of France, and I feel like dropping on the ground and sleep for a month. Since the attack in the forest, we have been ridding day and night to flee the bishop's wrath and I couldn't let my wound to slow us. Balian won't be safe until we have reached Messina, and there I will get some medical help at the city's hospital. I do pray to be alive when we arrive at Messina.

Balian told me the bishop's men had every right to seize him, and I answered him that, as his father, I had every right to keep him. The astonishment and gratitude I saw in his eyes is a memory I will take with me in the grave. Balian isn't used being defended and I can't help feeling guilty again: it's my fault my son has lived the miserable condition of a bastard child in his past. It is now my duty and my redemption to offer him a future.

I don't care any longerif I never see Jerusalem again. I just want to knight Balian in a ceremony, recognizing him officially as my son and heir, thus passing him my duties and my Ibelin lands in front of thirty witnesses so there won't be any opposition once he'd be in Jerusalem.

Oh God, my side hurts. Brother Michael has used all his science to dress the wound, but I'm afraid that this time his healing skills won't be enough. I don't have a fever yet, but it won't be long before I'll be burning hot. Some superstitious minds would think it'll give me a taste of Hell, but that's nonsense. I can hear some monks encouraging the pilgrims at the entrance of the camp, telling them that _"Killing infidels isn't a sin; it's the gateway to God's kingdom"_! God in Heavens, what fools! And to think that, in my youth, I believed those miserable swines. What a double fool I've been!

We have settled down to camp on the beachside, waiting for the boat to Messina. I'm lying on top of blankets; Brother Michael is dressing my wound with a poultice and some new bandages. Robert is nearby, getting a campfire ready to cook a meager meal; Balian has given the horses some food and water and now, like a true leader, he's checking on our weapons.

I'd like him at my side, but before I can call out to him, a man walks towards our beach camp, wearing the Templars' Order cloth on his chest and followed by a few men.

Guy de Lusignan.

Oh God, that arrogant prick, King Baldwin's IV brother-in-law. I remember the King sending him to France on a mission to recruit some more knights for the Holy Land's defense. Apparently, he has finished his task and he's getting ready to go back to Jerusalem.

I could recognize this self-satisfied smirk anywhere. De Lusignan embodies every bad side of knighthood and nobility: He doesn't give a damn about the knight's oath to protect the defenseless, obey the king or to live in peace with his neighbors. All he's interested in is gold and power and he would set the Holy Land ablaze to get it. I wept the day he married Princess Sybilla as I knew Jerusalem's future would be gone with this man.

And now he's towering me, enjoying the sight of me lying on a makeshift bed like a poor pilgrim, and I can almost read his mind: _"Oh, how the mighty has fallen"_. Brother Michael has turned his head at the sound of the newcomer, and his usual amused face has turned into stone. De Lusignan is the only man in the world who can turn good-natured Michael into a killer since the time he attacked without any reasons a Saracen caravan two years ago: as reprisal, the Muslims have slaughtered the monks of a nearby Hospitaler House. Brother Michael was the sole survivor.

Robert is "humbly" retiring in the background while watching the arrogant prick, getting ready to strike him at the first sign of hostility. Brother Michael is knelling closer to me, as if he wanted to shield me with his body. De Lusignan doesn't notice either of them, as he wrongly thinks a Hospitaler monk and an esquire are no match to a powerful and rich man. Then he notices Balian, standing next to him: in his eagerness to mock me, de Lusignan didn't see him coming.

And now he's puzzled: a commoner clad in poor, dark clothes dares to look at him straight in the eyes? That's a situation he's not accustomed to.

He points to Balian rudely, and asks me:

"Who is it?"

I smile. It's a proud and happy smile that hasn't graced my lips for years.

"My son." I answer.

De Lusignan turns incredulously to Balian: my son? A second look at Balian's face and he has the proof of what I've said. His face grimaces, as he understands that taking over my Ibelin lands won't be as easy as he originally thought. For years now he has been eyeing my possessions and tried twice to gain them by force. Only when King Baldwin has threatened him with annulment of his marriage with Princess Sybilla did he stop his open attacks. Since then, he has been waiting for old age to do his dirty work for him. But now… I have an heir.

Quickly, the arrogant smirk is back on de Lusignan's face and then he laughs and says loud enough for the whole camp to hear:

"Too bad I didn't fight you when you were able to father bastards!"

You god-damned back-stabber. He refers to the battle wound I've suffered 20 years ago, which prevented me to create a family of my own. De Lusignan, like his pal de Châtillon, values a man by the number of Saracens he kills and by the children, legitimates or not, he leaves behind. According to him and his greedy friends, a knight crippled in his manhood should retire to a monastery to avoid ridicule.

Robert casts a dirty look to de Lusignan, Brother Michael looks ready to strike, but Balian keeps his calm despite being insulted in public. By no doubts, he has been called a bastard in his native village more than once. But I know de Lusignan: he's full of wind, and the slightest knock is enough to make him fall. That's why I answer:

"I knew your mother when she was having **_her_** bastards. You're lucky being too old to be one of mine."

Right on target! De Lusignan grimaces again as I've just reminded him he's from a troublesome family, a position that makes him under suspicion of bastardy. And it's true I knew his mother, but not intimately: she was as arrogant as her son is and the very sight of her made me sick.

De Lusignan laughs again and says:

"You'll regret these words one day!"

Then he walks back to his camp and his snickering men. I don't care; he wouldn't dare attacking a wounded knight in public. Besides, I have two trustful friends and my son to watch over me.

Speaking of whom… Balian has kneeled next to me and I can see concern on his face. He's still confused about me being his father, but his good and honest heart has taken over and now he only sees a wounded man in need of help.

I wink at him, and ask:

"My Balian, would you bring your old man a drink of wine?"

He smiles at me, and the very sight of this makes me warm all over. Balian has my smile.

THE END


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